


Covet

by AlleiraDayne



Series: Bang Your Head (Metal Health) [30]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Alistair Smut, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Anal Sex, Bisexual Cullen Rutherford, Cullen Rutherford Smut, Cullen Smut, Double Penetration, F/F, F/M, Foursome, Foursome - F/F/M/M, M/M, Oral Sex, POV Cullen Rutherford, Penis In Vagina Sex, Rough Sex, Sex, Sex Toys, Sexy Alistair (Dragon Age), Smut, Strap-Ons, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-09
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-12-25 14:33:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12037905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlleiraDayne/pseuds/AlleiraDayne
Summary: Alistair has a request for Cullen, while Amallia tries out Alistair's latest find on Amodisia.





	Covet

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/138010791@N02/37094706505/in/datetaken-public/)

“Look at me.”

Amodisia craned her neck, eyes wide as she breathed a steady stream through her nose. A deep moan rumbled in her chest as Cullen withdrew his length from her mouth, her tongue swirling over the engorged head of his cock.

“Isn’t she beautiful, Alistair?” he asked with a breathless sigh as he cupped her cheek.

Greedy fingers grasped his hips, nails biting into the skin as his body pressed to his back. The thick length of Alistair’s erection eased between his cheeks, stroking with a roll of his hips. “She is. Especially with your cock in her mouth,” he agreed, fingers caressing his length.

Cullen sucked in a breath, his own hips jerking, sending him down her throat once more. Enveloped so, he shuddered, and Alistair’s fingers hinted at more to come as they teased his tight hole with lube.

“A pretty cunt, too,” Amallia whispered from across the bed, kneeling behind Amodisia. “Sopping wet and ready for me.”

Amodisia’s pathetic whimper filled his ears, Cullen shuddering as it vibrated along his length. Maker, but it was too much and not enough all at once, the sight of his lover’s wife and his own before him, and then the slow, smooth penetration that filled him from behind.

“ _Andraste preserve me,_ ” he moaned. “Oh, Ali, you feel so fucking good.”

Quivering lips plied at his neck as Alistair rolled his hips with a slow, repeated pace and a hand drifted up to tweak a soft nipple. “And you’re not so bad yourself,” he sighed with a lick of his ear.

A whimper of his own fell from his parted lips, the shiver reaching his erection and a bead of pre-cum gathering at the tip only for Amodisia to lap it into her mouth. “Not yet, my love,” Alistair whispered, his arm snaking beneath Cullen’s and grasping his throat. His thrusts gained speed, bodies slapping against one another. And Cullen grunted in frustration, grasping her hair at the back of Amodisia’s head and wrenching it, forcing her lips apart, and his cock fell from her lips.

She gasped a deep breath, her tongue reaching out for his flesh, teasing the tip. Another shuddering gasp rent the air as Amallia slapped her backside with Alistair’s latest gift: a huge red and black dildo from Bad Dragon, its shape and size erotically grotesque. With a roll of her hips, she stroked the phallus, with all its ridges and flares, between her cheeks, and Cullen moaned as it disappeared, only to feel the shock of penetration from Amodisia’s lips sucking at the crown of his cock.

“Maker’s breath,” she gasped, breath hot on his flesh. “Fuck, Alistair, this thing is _amazing_.”

“Oh, we’re not through with you yet, my love,” he replied, breathless, but maintaining his pace. “You haven’t been prepping Cullen for nothing, you know.”

Unsure of what Alistair meant, Cullen turned over his shoulder only for the other man’s lips to crush his in a greedy kiss. And he returned it twofold, begging for more the instant he pulled away. “Would you do me a favor, Cullen?”

Bewildered by the sudden question, Cullen searched Alistair’s golden stare for a hint of what he had in store, but no secret revealed itself there. Nothing but a smirk preceded his request.

“I want you to fuck my wife.”

Wild emerald green eyes widened as he looked to Amodisia, mind reeling in disbelief. True, Cullen had coveted Amodisia for a time, but no more than he had coveted Alistair and their gorgeous relationship. And that had been years ago, so long that he had nearly forgotten, but ever since the four of them had finally discussed their situation, Cullen had not given it another thought. He’d had nearly everything he had ever wanted, so what if he had yet to know Amodisia in _that_ way?

“Here,” Alistair said as he handed him a condom and withdrew from him. “We wouldn’t want to wonder whose children belong to whom, now, would we?”

No witty retort was to be found amidst the fog of lust clouding his mind. Make, this was really happening. But what of Amallia? Brilliant blue eyes met his with fiery passion, and without asking, she grinned a wicked, impish grin that could only mean one thing.

“Please, Cullen,” Amodisia begged, moaning with each of Amallia’s thrusts. “I want to feel you inside me.”

Without another thought, he tore the foil and rolled the soft rubber onto his length, then slipped beneath Amodisia, his legs between hers and his wife’s.

Amallia and Amodisia were gorgeous women in their own ways; where Amallia was long and muscled and fair-skinned, Amodisia was petite and curvaceous and gold like desert sand. Her large breasts swayed in his face, undulating with Amallia’s thrusts, and the desire to touch, to taste, consumed him.

Grasping both in his hands, he brought one breast to his mouth, lips sealing around the dark pink nipple and sucking. Sweet and salt covered his tongue, the soft, supple flesh so smooth and he moaned a rumbling sigh of pleasure into her body.

A hand gripped his length, directing it to Amodisia’s sopping wet center, the tip touching with a twitch of need. “Maker, you're trembling. Are you alright?” Amallia asked.

Alright? Try amazing, thrilled, aroused beyond his wildest dreams; none did him justice, each inadequate in encapsulating the exact sensations that devoured him whole. Maker, but he could hardly breathe, chest heaving as his lips sucked and his tongue plied Amodisia’s breast, circling her nipple until it firmed in his mouth. Loosened lips breathed cool air and gooseflesh spread across her body as Cullen wrapped his arms around her, fingers splaying across her back as he pulled her to his chest.

“Ready?” he asked, swimming in her emerald eyes.

She nodded, bottom lip dragging between her teeth and a small whimper of acquiescence whispering from her parted lips. The tip of his erection met her heat, Amallia guiding his manhood with a firm hand. Maker but she was so wet, sopping, near to dripping with arousal. He all but twitched and his cock parted her lips, spreading her with a roll of his hips so slow, Amodisia whined with impatience.

“Andraste preserve me,” Amallia muttered, her eyes wide as she watched.

Despite their intimate knowledge–carnal even–of one another, Cullen blushed, cheeks tingling with embarrassment. “Does it… er, do you like it? When I fuck her?” he asked, hands smoothing down to her ass, fingers biting into the supple flesh.

“Oh, I do,” Amallia moaned. “But I think we could do better,” she added with an eye to Alistair. “Are you just going to sit there and stare or do something about this?”

Amodisia gasped as Amallia neared her backside and a familiar pressure rubbed along his length as she entered her. Amodisia’s mouth gaped in a silent scream, eyes squeezed shut and nails digging into his shoulders. The sting of pain and pleasure radiated through his body, and Cullen sucked a breath through gritted teeth as he spoke.

“Do you like that, Sia?” he asked, pinning her to his chest. The soft of her breasts gathered against him, swelling as she obliged him. “Do you like the way we fill you?”

She squeaked again, another pitiful, wanton sound as Amallia snapped her hips, thighs slapping against her ass. And as Amallia set their pace, Cullen followed with slow languid rolls of his hips. In a matter of seconds, Amodisia was a babbling mess, names falling from her lips in a string of curses and demands vulgar enough to make any Templar blush.

Weight from above his head lifted, the mattress easing as Alistair stood and rounded the foot of the bed. Behind Amallia he paused, and Cullen stared, hips hesitating, distracted by the man behind his wife. Plastic tore and crinkled, tossed aside as Alistair rolled a fresh condom along his length, then knelt at the edge of the bed. Hands grasped Amallia’s cheeks, fingertips biting into the supple flesh, and she gasped, back arching with eyes blown wide.

“I’ll admit I’ve wondered what you taste like, Mal,” Alistair muttered, wild eyes staring as he spread her cheeks with a grasping roll of his hands. Amallia obliged hips rolling and Alistair hummed his approval through his nose. “That’s it, darling,” he whispered as his face disappear behind Amallia’s backside.

Maker, but he wished he could see, wished he could watch as Alistair’s long tongue teased her lips, his nose rubbed against her tight hole, and how his mouth sucked at her flesh. Her pace stuttered, interrupted by the sudden attention at her core. Her lips parted as her tongue wet parched lips, but a depraved moan broke free, entire body shuddering beneath the new sensation.

“ _Fuck_ , Alistair, that feels amazing,” she moaned.

He shouldn’t be jealous. Quite the opposite, Alistair’s skilled tongue plying Amallia’s core hardened him like little else. But, Andraste preserve him, hearing those words in her wanton voice boiled his blood. Focusing on that strangest pang of jealousy, Cullen thrust into Amodisia, his thighs slapping against hers, and her keening wail of pleasure burst from between pursed lips.

“Maker, do it again,” she begged, bottom lip dragging between her teeth. “ _Harder_.”

Without hesitation, he thrust again, harder, repeating the long, slow withdrawal to plunge into her again and again. And with each pump of his hips, her entire body rocked, a sharp jolt that jiggled her breasts in his face. Behind her, Amallia froze, still as stone and mouth hanging open as she moaned her soft moans. He imagined the firm, long strokes of Alistair’s tongue lapping her arousal as he so often did for him, and the bindings of his climax unraveled in that thought, his orgasm within reach.

But before he could do anything about it, Alistair stood, tongue licking his lips clean as he hummed a sigh of pleasure. “You are _so_ delicious, my love,” he whispered over her shoulder. Kneeling on the bed behind her, long fingers smoothed over her breasts, cupping them to tease her nipples stiff. Amallia moaned a loud, long wail, her body shuddering in the wake of Alistair’s hips rolling against her backside.

Too much, it was all too much, the room spinning and pitching and rolling as Cullen resisted the urge to release. It was everything he could do, every muscle in his body straining against that urge as Amallia gasped, eyes blown wide as Alistair’s hips slammed into her ass, the smack filling his ears. His moan followed, muffled by the crook of her neck as he buried his face in her hair, clinging her to his chest.

“Andraste’s _tits_ , you’re incredible,” he sighed, lips on her neck. “Oh, but I could fuck you all day, Mal.”

He tried. Maker, how he tried to hold out, to restrain himself. Every stroke, every gasp, every inch of skin slicked with sweat threatened to undo him, bursting at the seams. It was right there, so close, and in a bid for control, Cullen wrapped Amodisia in his massive arms, crushing her against his chest. Her helpless cry clipped as his lips crushed hers, a hand diving into her hair, and he thanked whatever gods might exist for having created this incredible woman as her tongue dove into his mouth.

His hips rocked in time with Alistair’s, thrusts driving Amallia into Amodisia, and her into him. Her lips tore from his in a gasping breath as Amallia thrust into her, the phallus buried in her tight hole. And Cullen breathed with her, their pleasures sung to the heavens in a chorus of moans and whimpers, gasps and cries of _oh, Maker_ and _yes, fuck me_ and _harder, right there_ and _faster, Cullen, I’m so close_ , _give it to me, Alistair, I’m gonna come, yes!_ Need overpowered his own selfish desires and Cullen obeyed–Alistair matching him–thrusting as fast as his hips would allow.

She lasted not a minute longer, Amodisia’s keening wail punctuated by the slapping of their bodies as her orgasm erupted in a glorious fit of flexing walls, shivering muscles, and the hot rush of her arousal coating his length. Unrelenting, Cullen slowed for nothing, finding his release second in a hard flex of his cock and the warmth of his own fluids filled the condom. Still thrusting into her, Cullen growled through his climax, his hand gripping her hair as another heavy flex released his seed. Emerald eyes so wide started into his, lips parted as she moaned with him, sharing in their mutual release.

And then, right as that sated euphoria washed over him, Cullen looked to Amallia, icy blue eyes wide as ever and her mouth gaping in a silent scream. Behind her, Alistair yet thrust, hard and as fast as he could, until Amallia’s voice found her in a wailing crying of pleasure. The sudden rush of fresh arousal twitched his hips, his length diving into Amodisia once more, and she gasped at the sudden penetration.

But it was Alistair’s pathetic whimpers, those tiny grunts and groans he knew so well, that shocked him to his core. Seized by his climax, the other man stilled, slow, little rolls of his hips draining every drop of his orgasm he could give. And in that instant, knowing precisely what the other man felt, Cullen whimpered as an aftershock of arousal extracted one last spurt of his seed, a hard flex that left him sore and spent.

Weightless, his arms fell to the bed, legs easing as every muscle relaxed, weakened with exhaustion. Time slowed again in that moment, in that lingering euphoria where he wandered, and whether seconds or minutes passed, Cullen cared not one wit. And when warm bodies, sticky with sweat and as exhausted as he, collapsed to either side of him, he pulled them close, legs and arms entwined.

Softness and supple flesh belonging to Amodisia warmed the left side of his body, her brown curls draped over his arm. That meant Amallia lay to his right, her head on his shoulder and fingers splayed on his chest, rubbing small circles and tender caresses. With a quick check, he found Alistair behind her, curled into her back and an arm wrapped around her waist. Lips he loved kissed her neck, her shoulder, and gooseflesh pebbled her skin as she giggled through her nose.

“You’ve ruined her, now,” Cullen jested. “She’s in love with you.”

Alistair’s mop of brown hair peeked over her shoulder, a curious brow raised as he considered first him then Amodisia, eyes closed and breathing slow, shallow. “I think I’ll consider it a fair trade.”

Fair for them, sure, he though. “What do you think?” he asked his wife. “Fair?”

Her gentle fingers curled a lock of hair from Amodisia’s face, revealing her small, contended smile. “Fair enough,” she replied. “But I think you owe us.”

“They do,” Amodisia mumbled, lips mashed against his arm. “They really owe us. Big time.”

Amallia grinned a wicked grin, a smile that often preceded one of her more perverted ideas. “We could watch you. And Alistair.”

“Watch us?” he asked, confused. “You want… you want to watch Alistair and I…”

“Pleasure each other, yes,” Amodisia finished for him as her eyes flitted open. “And we would take care of each other, too.”

Amallia sighed such a moan that Cullen checked for Alistair’s hands. “We would take _very_ good care of each other.”

“And,” Alistair started, sounding unsure as Cullen. “You would get off on that? Watching the… silly things we do to each other?”

Amodisia barked a laugh, then replied. “Oh, I bet it’s not silly. I can only imagine what you’d look like,” she paused her fingertips brushing his lips. “What you’d look like with my husband’s cock in your mouth.”

The most recent memory of their last coupling blossomed in a rush of color in his cheeks, stinging with embarrassment. But she wasn’t wrong. He loved sucking him off. But could he do that while they watched? His imagination ran wild with the possibility, Amallia’s head between Amodisia’s thighs, fingers grasping at their bodies, disappearing between their legs as they tried to focus on the two men.

“I think,” Alistair began, “that sounds like a fantastic idea. And apparently,” he paused, devious eyes looking him over. “Cullen is enjoying it already.”

Maker’s breath, when had that happened? Embarrassment stung his cheeks once more as Amodisia’s nimble fingers slipped the condom from his newly stiffened length. “What do you want, Cullen?” she whispered, breath hot on his ear.

Amber and gold connected in a flash of arousal, the chance to feel Alistair again so close, he could taste him, his big, thick cock on his tongue. He had to have him then, the immediate need coursing through his veins, and so, Cullen climbed from the bed to kneel at the foot between his knees.

To his right, the women watched, jaws gaping and eyes wide. And before him, Alistair leaned on his elbows, his impressive erection twitching against his stomach. Powerful thighs quivered beneath his hands, the other man gasping little breaths through parted lips. At his core, his fingers wrapped around the base of his shaft, a soft squeeze and stroke, and Alistair gasped, chest heaving and hips rolling.

With his lips a mere inch way from the crown of Alistair’s cock, Cullen turned to Amodisia and Amallia, ensuring they watched. And watch they did, eyes glued to him and breasts heaving in anticipation. Alistair squirmed in his grasp, a bid for his attention, and Cullen obliged with a small smirk. His lips parted, brushing his flesh, teasing the engorge tip of his erection as he spoke.

“Ready?”


End file.
